


Do you believe in fate?

by OrangeMentats



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: (Eventual) Ghoul Sex, Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Drinking, Explicit Language, F/M, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Ghouls, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Survival, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-07 23:04:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14091666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeMentats/pseuds/OrangeMentats
Summary: The world had changed a lot in 200 years. She hadn't changed one bit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I freaking love Deegan. I wish they'd made him a companion. Anyway, this is going to start off in the time universe as Breathing For You but might diverge at some point.

He didn’t believe in fate, he never had. It was simply bad luck that he had survived the blasts and simply good luck that he had been in the service of one of the wealthiest families in Boston when it happened. Jack had relished the opportunity to study his transition and had eased his suffering as best as he could, despite making him participate in the odd experiment. Despite his condition the family still treated him relatively well and he was lucky to experience a privilege which was unknown to almost all wastelanders and almost certainly all ghouls.

As he nursed a bourbon in the Third Rail, enjoying the limited freedom he had while searching for Emogene, he had not expect to see _her_. At first he wondered if Whitechapel Charlie had slipped something into his drink, but there was no generosity in the Mr Handy’s programming. All Charlie cared about was caps. How much _had_ he had to drink? Not enough to be hallucinating, that was for sure. Not even enough to be drunk. No, that couldn’t be it. But still, he couldn’t believe his eyes. It couldn’t be her. There was no way it could be her, not unless she’d turned into a ghoul. It had been 210 years since that fateful day and this woman looked unchanged; beautiful and radiant, making even Magnolia pale in comparison.

He watched her from his table, tucked away in the far corner near the bar. The dim light and smoky haze gave him the confidence to watch her openly. The resemblance was uncanny – surely she was some long lost relative across the centuries, or a genetic anomaly that fate had brought before him. No, he didn’t believe in fate. He watched as she descended the stairs arm in arm with Mayor Hancock, laughing and joking as she did so, shadowed by a dour looking man in power armour.

He didn’t notice the suit until the trio reached the bottom of the stairs, royal blue and gold illuminated by strings of railway lights. He had heard rumours of a vault dweller taking over what was left of the Minutemen, travelling across the Commonwealth to settlements in need of help – conveniently the same one who’d shot some of the Cabot’s mercenaries up at Parsons - but had not expected it to be her. There was no mistaking it now, it _was_ her – as perfect as the last day he’d seen her over 200 years earlier. He could picture it now, even if it was all a little hazy. Her dressed in a green sundress, dark wavy hair loose around her shoulders, arm in arm with her husband like she was with the Mayor now. He felt like his brain was short circuiting, that maybe he was finally losing it and this was the descent into turning feral. He couldn’t even begin to fathom what he was seeing.

She unlooped her arm from Hancock’s as the trio reached the bar, the woman seating herself between the two men as Hancock gestured to Charlie – three vodkas, on the house, he’d said. He could see now why the man in power armour looked quite so uncomfortable, the unmistakeable insignia of a Brotherhood Paladin painted on his gauntlets. No wonder he looked so on edge. The Brotherhood weren’t exactly welcome in Goodneighbor. Deegan was surprised he’d even made it through the gate. He guessed it was because of her. She’d been a lawyer pre-war, if his memory served correctly, and experience had proved that she could talk her way out of just about anything.

The Paladin eyed his drink suspiciously and left it on the bar while the woman and Hancock clinked glasses and downed their shots. When she noticed her companion’s drink sitting untouched on the bar, she grabbed it with a grin. “More for me,” She’d said, before drinking that one too. Hancock ordered another round, downing his own before patting the woman on the back and retreating to mingle with his people. The Paladin looked distinctly less uncomfortable as the Mayor moved away, but still glowered at his companion.

“Oh, lighten up Danse.” He heard her say. “C’mon, it’s just vodka. I’m on my second and I’m not dead.” Edward didn’t mean to listen in to their conversation, but at this distance it was impossible not to. 

“It’s tactically irresponsible to get intoxicated in such an unsafe location.” Her companion retorted, still scowling. The woman sighed, rubbing her temple before reaching for both glasses of vodka. 

“Hey. It’s cool. How about I meet you back at the Rexford? I’m gonna see if I can get some work, while I’m here.” 

The Paladin huffed, opening his mouth to say something before she interjected with “Come _on_ Danse, you know I can handle myself. I promise I won’t get into any trouble.” Whatever expression she wore he couldn’t see, but the Paladin’s face softened to something akin to affection before he nodded and left the bar. The woman watched him go before turning back to Charlie to barter over a bourbon.

He took his chance, rising from his table with his own drink in hand. He slid onto the stool beside her, signalling to Charlie to put her drink on his tab.

“You there. We need to have a conversation.”

She spun on her stool to face him, one eyebrow raised in question. Her bright blue eyes flickered across his face and he almost thought he caught a glimmer of recognition, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

“You’ve got my attention.”

Her gaze left him for a moment as she reached for the glass of bourbon, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip. He still couldn’t quite believe that it was her, but after hearing her voice there was no doubt left in his mind. Everything was too much of a coincidence not to be. 

“And you got my attention by poking your nose into my business. Specifically by shooting up a place called Parsons State Insane Asylum. A place that happens to be owned by my boss.”

“Are you threatening me?” She interrupted, her voice light – as if she didn’t find him threatening at all. Not that he was trying to be. She was swilling her drink nonchalantly, taking another sip as he continued. 

“No. I’m always looking for people who know how to handle themselves in dangerous situations. From what I hear, you may fit the bill.”

He hadn’t intended to hire her, but if it gave him the opportunity to get to spend time with her – a relic of the old world, like him – then he supposed he could find work for her to do. 

“What’s the job?”

She purred at him, intrigue sketched on her attractive features. He couldn’t say he was surprised that she was asking, considering what she’d been discussing with her companion earlier. He felt a twinge as he remembered the way the other man looked at her and wondered if there was something between them. He didn’t know why he was getting his hopes up anyway, he was a ghoul and no doubt she would find him repulsive.

“I don’t know yet.” He replied honestly, “Whatever needs to be done once my boss has had a look at you. I can assure you that it will be dangerous, and that you’ll be paid fairly. By the way, I’m Edward Deegan. You’ll mostly be working for-“

All he saw was her eyebrows shoot skywards, the glimmer of recognition from earlier blooming into incredulity and shock. He didn’t even get chance to finish his sentence before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into an embrace. He was so unprepared that if he hadn’t braced himself on the bar he probably would’ve fallen off his stool. He heard Charlie grumbling behind the bar – _‘oi, watch it, you break it, you pay for it’_ – but was so surprised by her actions that it barely even registered.

“Holy shit. _Holy shit_. Edward? It’s really you?” 

She pulled back again, holding him at arms length and gazing up into his ruined face, studying him. She was even more beautiful when she smiled. He found himself suddenly self-conscious under the weight of her gaze and simply nodded. Her arms were around him again, the warmth of her against him a comfort he thought he’d never experience. When she released him the second time, he felt a distinct disappointment – he dared to think that she felt good in his arms. Hell, he’d wanted her since the first day he met her, even though pining after another man’s wife had made him feel like a sack of shit. Her hand came up to cup his cheek and he closed his eyes against her touch. Her skin was so soft – everything about her was so soft – and he was so touch deprived that even such a simple gesture had his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Amelia.” He whispered against her wrist, his ruined lips brushing against her skin. When he opened his eyes, she was still staring up at him in disbelief. He’d forgotten quite how short she was. Even sat next to him she seemed frighteningly small. He couldn’t read her expression, but her eyes looked wet with the beginnings of tears.

“You remembered me.” She whispered back. He simply nodded, but all he could think was _how could I forget?_ Her thumb brushed softly against his cheek and he revelled in the simple pleasure of it while trying to quell the effect her proximity was having on him. Two hundred years of isolation made her touch almost overwhelming. She withdrew her hand, reaching into the pack at her side and pulling out a handful of caps.

“Hey Charlie! I’ll take a bottle of your best bourbon for me and my friend here.” She glanced at Edward and grinned. “Calls for a celebration, don’t you think?” 

Yes. Yes it did. Hell, other than the Cabots everyone he’d known before the Great War had died when the bombs fell, or so he thought. In the early years of his ghoulification he thought he might run into someone he knew, someone else with the misfortune of losing a portion of their humanity to radiation. But no, everyone was gone. He found solace in his friendship with Jack, the way the Cabots and their House never changed was a grounding force in his life even when everything else had fallen apart.

She opened the bottle and filled both glasses far too full, clinking her glass to his before taking a hearty gulp. “It is bourbon you drink, isn’t it? Here’s hoping 200 years in the freezer hasn’t fried my brain too much.” She was trying to be upbeat, but as soon as the words left her mouth Edward could see the pain in her eyes. He finished the remnants of his old glass and picked up the new one, taking a swig. 

“No, no, you’re right with bourbon.” Her grin widened. “Amelia… Forgive me for prying but what the fuck are you doing here? 200 years and… you’re still _you_.” She sighed, taking another sip of her drink.

“Well, Nate’s service got us a place in a Vault, one got built just up the hill from Sanctuary Hills. We had just finished up the paperwork on the day the bombs dropped. We grabbed Shaun and ran. God, it was awful – our neighbours were clawing at the fence trying to get in, they were stuck out there when the bombs fell. We only just made it in. I saw it, Edward, I saw the cloud, felt the shockwave…”

She trailed off, her eyes far off and distant, haunted by 200 year old memories which were far too fresh.

“Anyway, we got down into the vault and were told we just had to get decontaminated before we could head deeper in… but it wasn’t decontamination, it was cryogenics. They _froze_ us, Edward. To what end I don’t know, but about ten years ago we got defrosted and some.. some assholes shot Nate and took Shaun. I was hammering on the door trying to get out but I was still sealed in. There was nothing I could do. But the cunt who killed Nate made the biggest mistake of his life by leaving me alive. Can you believe he even had the gall to taunt me and call me ‘the backup’? I’m going to make him fucking regret it.”

She spat the last few words, draining her glass of bourbon and pouring herself another. He couldn’t find the words to comfort her, for no words could comfort such loss. He felt slightly sick at the relief he felt, though, knowing that Nate was gone. He knew the pair’s relationship had been rocky at times, but she’d still loved him or else she wouldn’t have brought him to the support group.

“How long..?” 

“Oh, jeez. Been out of the vault about 3 months now, guess it’s just luck or fate that I’ve survived this long. Got a few leads on that merc asshole, so my next stop from here is Diamond City to meet a detective called Nick Valentine. Surely can’t be the same one from our time though, right?”

He shrugged. He’d heard about Diamond City’s greatest detective but never had the pleasure of meeting him. Being a ghoul meant he didn’t exactly get free access into the Great Green Jewel. He’d heard the rumours, though.

“Heard he’s a synth, but who doesn’t get accused of being a synth in times like these.”

 She nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure she was listening. Her eyes seemed far away, glassy, as if she wasn’t seeing the Third Rail but something else entirely. When she finally turned her attention back to him, reaching for the bottle to refill both of their glasses, she had an entirely different topic on her mind.

“Anyway, enough of my fucking pity party. You said you had a job for me and I so rudely interrupted.” She was getting drunk, as if the playful grin which danced across her attractive features wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the slight slur was. “I’m your gal, if you can wait for me to get back from Diamond City, of course.” Her hand settled on his knee and he couldn’t quite tell if it was intentional or she was just trying to balance herself.

“Don’t know what the job is yet, you’ll need to talk to my boss first.” He paused, trying to decide whether or not to tell her he was still working for the Cabots, though with the amount of alcohol she’d consumed she probably wouldn’t remember anyway. She was chasing her bourbon down with more bourbon now, so he poured the remainder into his own glass. She’d had more than enough by his measure.

“Come down to Cabot House in Beacon Hill and ask to talk to Jack. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”

She nodded, but just to be sure she wouldn’t forget – and partly for his own selfish need to see her again – he gently took her left hand in his, holding it for a moment before marking the House on her pip boy. She watched him through heavily lidded eyes, gesturing for Charlie with her free hand.

“Come on, sweetheart, I think you’ve had quite enough. Let’s get you home safe, eh?” 

She’d told her companion she’d meet him at the Rexford, so he took her arm and began to lead her out of the bar. She sighed dramatically when she got to the stairs, swooning and throwing her arm across her forehead with a dramatic flair that could rival even Emogene. When she turned to retreat back to the bar he caught her hand, scooping her up into his arms to carry her. She nuzzled into his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world, murmuring something which sounded suspiciously like _“you’re so warm”_ against the leather of his jacket. He hated the way she made his heart flutter in his chest, even after all this time. He shouldn’t be lusting after a woman so recently bereaved, especially one whose husband he’d known personally. As much as holding her in his arms felt wonderful, it sure did come with a shitty aftertaste.

It didn’t take long to reach the Rexford, but by the time he reached the front desk she was dozing in his arms. He persuaded Clair into telling him which room her companion was staying in – it looked a lot less suspicious than asking which room was hers – and headed up the stairs. He pressed a chaste kiss to her temple as they reached the landing, whispering _‘goodnight, sweetheart’_ as he reached the door to her companion’s room; he sure didn’t expect to be able to say a soft goodbye once her Brotherhood friend was aware that he was here.

He knocked awkwardly on the door which opened to reveal the man from earlier, sans power armour. The man’s brow furrowed darkly when he spied Amelia in Edward’s arms, anger and disgust sparking in his eyes.

“She just had too much to drink is all. Here.” He handed the Paladin the sleeping vault dweller as gently as he could, though she obviously noticed the loss of his warmth, protesting weakly. “Hmph. Edward.” She mumbled groggily, the rage and discomfort on the Paladin’s face amplified tenfold.

“Look after her for me,” He began. “She’s an old friend.”

And with that, he left. Emogene wouldn’t find himself.


	2. Chapter 2

She’d told him that night in the Third Rail that she had business to attend to in Diamond City, but he couldn’t help hoping that she’d turn up at the Cabot’s door within the week. He had brought Emogene home as quickly as he could, concerned that Amelia might visit Beacon Hill while he was out looking for her, but on his return Jack confirmed that no one had so much as rung the intercom. He regretted his decision to return to the house so soon, at least while he had been out searching for Emogene he had something to distract him from his thoughts. Stuck in the house with very little to do, as usual, was driving him crazy.

No matter what he did he couldn’t get her off his mind, like the ghost of her was haunting him. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel the warmth of her, the weight of her against him, the touch of her hand on his cheek like a brand. She visited his dreams and he did unspeakable things to her, waking in the morning to the disappointment of an empty bed. He needed to get out and kill something, anything, just to clear his head. That or he needed to see her again, but there was no telling if or when she would come calling at the Cabot residence.

By the third week, he had cleared the surrounding area of raiders for the fifth time, each time venturing further from the house just to distract himself. He even visited Bunker Hill. He told himself that it was just to get supplies – and to his credit he did come back with everything he needed – but deep down he hoped he’d run into her again. She wasn’t there, but rumours were flying about a vault dweller massacring the Triggermen holed up in Vault 114 and he knew that it was her. Where she’d gone after the Vault no one seemed to know but it gave him hope that she hadn’t gotten herself killed somewhere out in the wasteland. 

It was six weeks before she finally turned up at his door, by which point he was almost certain she wasn’t going to come. When the intercom buzzed to life, he simply growled “Go away,” down the microphone. It wasn’t uncommon for the odd drifter to see the house and try their luck at getting in. He didn’t blame them, really. If he was living in the burnt-out shell of a building or a leaking shack he guessed he’d try his luck too. The speaker crackled to life again and he instantly regretted being so curt. It wasn’t exactly the warm welcome he’d wanted to give her.

“Um, I’m here to talk to Jack Cabot.”

“Oh, Amelia, it’s you. I thought you might change your mind. Come on in, doors open.”

He left the confines of his tiny basement room, jogging up the stairs and into the hallway just to watch her tentatively open the door. She poked her head in first, glancing around before spotting him and grinning. He couldn’t help but smile back at her. She pushed the door open, loping across the distance to give him a brief hug and peck on the cheek. He was glad that his ghoulification had robbed him of the ability to blush, for the flush to his cheeks would’ve been obvious. It was only when he wrapped his arms around her waist to return the gesture that he noticed a familiar hulking figure at her back, scowling at him over her shoulder. Edward met the other man’s gaze and saw disgust and what he could only describe as jealousy in his eyes.

The first time he’d met her and her power armoured companion, he hadn’t really taken much notice of the man’s appearance. But now, in the bright lights of the Cabot residence, the resemblance between the Paladin and her late husband was remarkable. Both men had thick black hair and warm brown eyes, their features different but not dissimilar. It was almost as if she and Nate had found each other again across the ages, as if fate itself had caught him in a love triangle set to repeat. No, he didn’t believe in fate.

He released the petite woman from his arms, trying to ignore the burning of the Paladin’s gaze upon him. It was only then that she really took in her surroundings; the immaculate paintwork, perfect furniture and fresh smell seemingly taking her off guard. A quiet _“woah”_ left her lips as she spun on the spot.

“Holy shit, Edward, this is where you _live_? I haven’t seen anything like this since I crawled out of the vault. Hell, didn’t see many places like this even before the war. What is this place?”

“Better to let Jack answer that. Come on, let’s meet the boss.”

She followed him obediently through the great wooden doors, still in awe of the pristine house she found herself in. Her companion, too, seemed stunned at the condition of the place, remarking that the house seemed totally untouched by the passing of time. He called up the stairs to Jack, who was busy with his latest experiment.

“One moment, one moment. I just need to…”

The nasally voice of his employer called back, followed by the sound of a small explosion and a quiet string of curses. He heard the Paladin draw his weapon at the sound, but Amelia did not seem alarmed. Edward turned to her with a sigh.

“He’ll be right with us.”

It was never in Jack’s interests to be quick about anything unless it involved one of his experiments. Anything that disturbed his research went straight to the bottom of his list of priorities. He was taking his sweet time coming downstairs and the waiting was evidently making the Paladin restless. The man still hadn’t holstered his weapon, staring daggers at the ghoul the whole time. The man muttered something under his breath that he couldn’t quite hear, but given the way Amelia spun furiously to face him she definitely did.

“Edward,” She called over her shoulder, “Please excuse us for a moment.”

With that, she grabbed the power-armoured man by the gauntlet and practically manhandled him out into the hallway, closing the door with a meek smile in Edward’s direction. From her reaction he could only imagine what the man had said wasn’t very pleasant. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard her start berating her companion out in the hall.

“How _dare_ you, we are his guests.”

The woman hissed, the fury evident in her voice. 

“I can’t believe you’re okay with working for.. for this _thing_.”

“ _Thing?!_ ” She snarled back, “Are you fucking kidding me? He is my _friend_ , Danse. I knew him, back before the war. Just because he looks a little different from you or me now doesn’t make him any less human. He’s no more of a thing than you or I.”

“It could turn feral at any minute. You’re putting us in a dangerous situation and-“

“Dangerous?! The only thing dangerous here, Danse, is your fucking attitude. You know what, if you’re going to carry on being rude you can head back to Cambridge. I’ll pick you up next time I’m out that way.”

Silence.

“Didn’t think so.”

She finished, knocking softly on the door before re-entering the room. She smiled sheepishly to him and he nodded in response. Her timing was impeccable; it was about this time that Jack decided to make his grand entrance. His employer and the vault dweller exchanged pleasantries, Jack skirting her questioning about the house with practiced ease. Only the family’s most trusted employees knew about their secret and Amelia, as much as Edward had vouched for her, hadn’t even been hired yet. When the time came for the pair to talk business, Jack gestured to him.

“Edward, the good bourbon, eh?”

He nodded, fetching the crystal decanter and a pair of matching glasses. He poured Jack and Amelia a glass, leaving the bottle on the table while grabbing two more glasses from the dresser. He poured two smaller glasses, taking a sip of one while offering the final glass to the Paladin as an olive branch. The man scowled at him before begrudgingly taking the glass. Well at least he’d made an effort to be civil, not that he expected it to be reciprocated. When his attention returned to his employer and Amelia, he found that she was beaming at him. Jack launched into his spiel, though quickly veered off to his favourite question of all to ask new employees. 

“Jack, is this really the time for…” 

“Don’t interrupt, Edward. Anyway, where was I, ah yes..”

The dark haired woman shot his employer a sharp look before turning her gaze to him. He nodded, reassuring her. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t mind the way the Cabots often spoke to him and more that he’d just become accustomed to it over the last 200 years. Even at their worst the Cabots still spoke to him better than most wastelanders. Amelia and Jack’s spirited discussion about extra-terrestrial life resumed, uninterrupted until she showed a little too much interest for her companion’s liking.

“This is all just smoke and mirrors and fictional nonsense. I thought you had a head on those shoulders, Knight.” 

She simply glared at him and the pair continued their discussion. At this point even Edward was beginning to get frustrated, Jack kept going off on different tangents about his research and Amelia seemed all too willing to listen. She was incredibly patient, he’d give her that.

“Jack, can I tell her what I need her to do.”

“I’m sorry Edward, I just get carried away sometimes. You’re sending her to look for the missing shipment?” The ghoul nodded. “Well then, I’d better leave you to it. We’ll talk more about this another time, when things are less rushed. It isn’t important now. Welcome to the family.”

“Okay, you’re officially hired. Congratulations.” 

She was beaming up at him from the armchair over her glass as Jack left. Jack must’ve seen the way he looked at her as he passed, his employer giving him a sideways glance as he passed. No doubt he would get some questions later, or maybe tomorrow – whenever Jack was distracted from his research long enough to ask. He explained what he needed her to do, telling her to speak to Maria when she got to Parsons. She seemed quite willing to accept the task, only asking a handful of probing questions about the package she was to retrieve. Her companion, on the other hand, was much more suspicious. Edward imagined he would have a much easier time with her in his employ if the Paladin wasn’t following her around like a lost dog. Having seen the way the dark-haired man looked at her while she spoke to Jack he was sure that the man harboured no small amount of affection for her. It also seemed like he had made it his personal mission to be as difficult as possible, as if trying to dissuade her from going ahead with the job. She took no heed however, jumping up from her chair eagerly when she had finally exhausted her questioning.

“Alright then, we’d best head up to Parsons. It shouldn’t be too difficult if we’re just dealing with raiders, they usually scatter when they see the big guy here coming anyway.”

She winked at her power-armoured companion and patted him on his gauntlet. Edward hated the way his stomach curled in response. The man’s dark gaze flickered to him almost as if he could feel the ghoul’s discomfort, softening when he looked back to the petite woman stood between them.

“We’ll be back before you know it, promise.”

She grabbed his hands, giving them a quick squeeze. She must have sensed his discomfort, or his nerves. Honestly, he couldn’t stand the thought of not seeing her again and the area around Parsons was notoriously dangerous, infested with raiders and roving Deathclaws. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t handle herself – she wouldn’t have lasted this long if she couldn’t – just an innate feeling of worry that pooled and bubbled in the pit of his stomach. Lifting a hand tentatively, he cupped her cheek, just as she had done that night in the Third Rail. God, he’d never get over how soft her skin was. He heard the sharp inhalation of breath, the audible embodiment of the Paladin’s disdain for him, but ignored it. Right now, the only thing that mattered was her.

“Be careful out there.”

She smiled softly before her expression quickly changed to something devilish.

“Edward darling,” She purred. The things her voice did to him when she spoke like that. “I’m not the fragile housewife you remember from before the war.”

“You were never fragile, Amelia. Anything but.”

Delicate, sure. But never fragile. She had always been wilful and opinionated, it was why she ended up in her line of work. If he remembered correctly, she’d specialised in civil liberties and human rights. Always standing up for the little guy, just like now. The thought made him smile.

She turned, grabbing her pack from by the door and gesturing for her companion to follow with no more than a glance over her shoulder. After that, she was out the front door in seconds, eager to get on with her mission. Her absence made the atmosphere in the room grow tense, as if she had been a dampening force on the sheer, unadulterated hatred that emanated from the Paladin.

“Filthy ghoul.”

The man growled as he moved toward the door. Edward didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t let the man get under his skin, that was just what he wanted. The only thing Edward wanted was her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not mad keen on this chapter, hoping the next one will be a little better and less filler-y.

Just as he’d expected, when his employer finally broke away from his research in the evening he came to Edward with questions. He knew it was coming from the way Jack sidled up to him while he was preparing mirelurk cakes. Edward had always prided himself on keeping his emotions under wraps, but after 200 years his employer could read him like a book. The bespectacled man busied himself for a few minutes, retrieving some snack cakes from a cupboard and generally loitering. 

“Hey, Jack, you alright?” 

He hated being the one to break the silence, but it would just drag out a lot longer if he didn’t. 

“Why yes. Actually, I wanted to talk to you about our newest employee.”

There it was.

“Shoot.”

“You seem to have an awful lot of faith in her, I didn’t think you’d want to send someone new after the missing shipment.” 

As much as that made sense, their security force was stretched thin enough up at Parsons as it was. Even if he hadn’t hired her, he’d rather have sent someone new after the package – it saved potentially losing an experienced member of the Parsons force. Maria’s recent reports had been concerning, they seemed to be losing people at an alarming rate. Sure the work was dangerous, but they’d been losing approximately one man a week and that just didn’t sit right with him. 

“She’s a very capable woman. Besides, we can’t afford to lose anyone else from Parsons.” 

Jack almost appeared placated by his answer, nodding thoughtfully for a moment. Edward knew what Jack was like, his questioning wouldn’t be over that easily. Once Jack was invested in a theory he chased it until he uncovered the truth. He was also too perceptive for his own good. 

“I think you’re rather fond of her, Edward.”

He had that smug tone to his voice, the one he used when he already knew he was right. If it had been anyone else, Edward would’ve found it infuriating. In fact he still found it infuriating, but he knew Jack didn’t mean any harm. He sighed, defeated, knowing there was no point lying.

“You could say that. She’s... an old friend. Her husband used to come to the veteran’s support group, you know, back before the war. She was one hell of a woman then and she’s one hell of a woman now. Can’t even tell you how much of a shock it was seeing her in Goodneighbor.”

His employer bristled, although whether in annoyance or excitement Edward couldn’t quite tell.

“She’s pre-war? Do you think she knows.. about us, about the family?”

“She hasn’t mentioned it." 

“Ah. Well. Good. Edward this opens up so many possibilities, how is she possibly pre-war? She doesn’t seem to have been… afflicted, like you were. It seems highly improbable that she had access to something like the serum. You don’t happen to know how she survived this long, do you?”

“She mentioned something about a vault. I really think you should ask her about it personally though, Jack. 

“Goodness, so many possibilities. Yes, I’ll ask her about it when she returns from Parsons. You’ll have to see if you can talk her into letting me into that vault though, it could open up some other avenues to my research.”

Talking about her experiences like this just seemed… wrong. It was her tale to tell, not his.  But equally, Jack would be so enthralled with the subject of the vault that he doubted he’d bring it up tactfully. Maybe it would be better if he broached the subject with her. Jack took his leave after that, snack cakes in hand, theorising different ways that Amelia could’ve survived in the vault as he went.  

She haunted his dreams again that night, a mixture of memory and fantasy. He could picture her bringing Nate to the support group for the first time. They were slightly early so only a couple of other veterans had arrived. After two tours in Alaska Edward had seen what war could do to a man, lived through it himself. So many men came back from the war changed and damaged, it only seemed right to offer his help. He was one of the lucky ones, falling into the service of the Cabots had saved his life many times over, the first of which being the therapy and support he’d received. If it hadn’t been for Jack seeing his potential and investing a considerable amount of time, money and effort into his recovery he probably would’ve ended up in a ditch somewhere. Nate had been a different story, from what he could tell. His service had left him with deep-rooted psychological scars which his wife alone was ill-equipped to help with. When she walked through the door that very first time he could see the strain on her face, lurking just below a polished exterior. He didn’t know quite how bad their issues were but he knew they ran deep. But his dreams didn’t linger on Nate for long, instead choosing to relive that night in the Third Rail; the feel of her in his arms, the touch of her hand on his cheek, the imagined warmth of curling up beside her at night.

Yet again, she did not return as soon as he would’ve liked. Her tardiness had obviously not gone unnoticed by Jack, who pestered him at any opportunity for news. He knew she had been to Parsons, Maria had radioed in to tell him as much. Other than that, he knew nothing.

It was another three weeks before she reappeared, stumbling through the door without so much as ringing the intercom. When he’d heard the door open, the ghoul had sprinted from the lab to the top of the stairs, assault rifle drawn. The woman at the bottom of the stairs was a mess - wild-eyed and bloodied – a huge rifle on her back and a shotgun in her hands. At her side was a large dog, but he saw no sign of the power-armoured figure which usually followed her like a shadow. She dropped the shotgun when she saw him, the gun clattering unceremoniously to the ground. He holstered his own weapon and ran to her, clutching her face in his hands.

“Jesus, Amelia. What happened to you?”

She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to. Wherever she’d been, she’d been through hell. He took a step back to look her over; a wound on her thigh oozed blood, but not enough to be dangerous. She looked like she’d managed to take a stimpak before crawling her ass to his door, so at this point most of the damage was probably superficial.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He picked up her shotgun in one hand, leading her down into the basement to his room, her dog hot on their heels. At least down here the floor could be hosed down without Wilhelmina going mad about the carpet. He sat her on the edge of the bed, squeezing her hand gently before retrieving a bucket of hot water from the kitchen. He wet the cloth and began to clean her face, melting away weeks of dirt and dried blood. She melted with it, closing her eyes and humming contentedly as he wiped the worst of the Commonwealth away. To his relief, most of the blood wasn’t hers. When her face and neck were clean he started on her hands, the palms sore and blistered from what looked like electrical burns. Her cheek, too, was burned, ringed in purple bruising from the force of an impact. Wherever she’d been, she’d been in one hell of a fight. But she’d come through it. A capable woman indeed.

He emptied the bucket in the kitchen sink, refilling it with hot water and returning to her.

“Here,” He handed her the cloth. “I’ll find you some clean clothes. Something of Emogene’s will probably fit you. I’ll get your suit cleaned up.”

She nodded and he closed the door quietly behind him. He laid some of Emogene’s least revealing clothes at the door, before grabbing another bucket and heading back upstairs. Better to clean up the blood before Jack or Wilhelmina noticed and started asking questions. He was scrubbing the floor when the door burst open again, jumping back in surprise and drawing his assault rifle. He stood face to face with the Paladin, whose laser rifle was trained on his chest.

“Where is she.”

The man snarled, anger seared into every line of his face.

“She’s safe, no thanks to you.” 

The ghoul growled back, lowering his rifle to his side. The man - Danse, was it? – looked visibly hurt at his words, shifting uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. As far as Edward was concerned it was the Paladin’s fault she’d ended up in such a state. For someone who followed her like a shadow he hadn’t exactly done a stellar job of looking after her.

Neither man was willing to back down until they heard the soft padding of bare feet on wood. The Paladin’s face softened and Edward turned to face the vault dweller, who looked considerably less dishevelled than when she’d first arrived. She was almost smiling, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes. Stood there in one of Emogene’s knee length blue dresses there was no mistaking she was something pre-war.

“I’m fine, both of you. I just had something to take care of with Valentine. It got messy.”

The time she’d spent alone in the basement seemed to have snapped her out of whatever daze she was in, with the dirt and gore washed away it was hard not to think she was a different woman entirely. She was hiding something, though, or at least not telling the whole truth. Edward didn’t push the issue. If she wanted to talk about it, she would bring it up in her own time. The Paladin evidently disagreed.

“What about Kellogg? Did you find him?” 

Her lips pursed for a moment, eyes darkening at a name Edward didn’t understand the significance of. The dog settled itself at her side, the woman anxiously stroking behind it’s ears to keep her hands busy.

“Yeah, we found him. Fucker got me pretty good,” She gestured to her injured leg. “In the end though, I’m standing here and he isn’t. Guess that’s what he gets for being a smug fuck.”

“Ah, you’re back!”

Edward heard Jack call from somewhere upstairs, most likely the lab. He must’ve heard the voices. The ghoul heard the heavy thump of footsteps coming downstairs, before Jack’s bespectacled face peered round the door from the living room. 

“Come on, this way. There’s no need to stand talking in the front hall like savages.”

The Paladin was the first to follow Jack in, but not before throwing a sharp look at the ghoul. As Edward went to follow, the vault dweller called to him. 

“Hey, um, Edward?” He turned to face her. “Some raiders set up camp near Parsons and ambushed your courier. I took care of them.” She clutched something in her dainty hand, holding it out to him. “This was all I got back, here.”

She pressed it into his hand gently, as if it could break at any moment. He smiled, he knew there was a reason he had such faith in her. Most wastelanders would’ve just kept it or used it to find out what it was. She was honest, still had those old-world morals ingrained in her. It made her even more endearing.

“Oh good, I was afraid we wouldn’t get any of it back. Don’t like the idea of raiders operating so close to Parsons, though. I hope this isn’t the start of something serious. Here’s your pay for the job. I’m throwing in a little bonus for bringing back the serum.” 

A commotion in the living room drew his attention away, the unmistakeable shrill of Mrs Cabot rising over a frustrated sounding Jack. Edward sighed, a sound that said he knew where this was going already. 

“Ah, hell. I guess it’s time you met Wilhelmina. Jack’s not going to be happy about it, come on.”

He gestured for the petite woman to follow. The Paladin stood uncomfortably near the table, obviously displeased to have been caught in the middle of the Cabot’s family squabble. The pair were bickering over Emogene, as usual. As far as Edward was concerned, Jack was right. Emogene was a grown woman with more street smarts than the rest of the family gave her credit for. She wouldn’t have survived all her little disappearances if it weren’t the case. 

“Don’t worry, Mrs Cabot. I’ll send someone to find Emogene.”

He gestured to the petite woman at his side, who seemed to visibly shrink under Wilhelmina’s harsh gaze. 

“Thank you, Edward. I can always count on you.” She turned to Jack. “Why can’t you be as devoted as dear Edward?” The older woman spat before disappearing into the dining room, no doubt in search of vodka. With the serum in such short supply Wilhelmina had been using alcohol as even more of a crutch than usual.

Jack grumbled something beside him about bending to his mother’s whim, to which Edward simply replied, “just doing my job.” He handed over the serum and Jack retreated back upstairs, keen to dilute it as soon as possible to settle his mother’s nerves. The Paladin had stayed uncharacteristically quiet throughout the whole bizarre exchange, his forehead furrowed as if deep in thought. When Edward eyed him, the man would not meet his gaze. Perhaps his words had cut deeper than intended. Ah well, he supposed there was no harm in the man feeling a little humility.

With the room now quiet and the trio left in peace, the ghoul turned to brief the petite woman on her next mission. 

“Emogene is Jack’s sister. You probably figured that out by yourself. She’s, ah, a little flighty. Impulsive. From time to time she runs off, usually with a new boyfriend. Then I send someone to bring her home. That’s where you come in.”

“Sounds like an easier assignment than raiders. Any idea where she might’ve gone?”

“No, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find out. She’s been spending a lot of time in the Third Rail. Somebody there must know something, she’s not exactly known for keeping her mouth shut.”

“Goodneighbor, eh?” She drawled, head cocked slightly to one side. He saw the Paladin bristle at the mention of it. She rocked back and forward on her heel for a moment, as if weighing up her next move. “I know you said those extra caps were my bonus for bringing back the serum, but you know what’d be an even better bonus? How about you come with us, the more the merrier hmm?” The noise her companion made said he disagreed. “Plus, I owe you a drink for looking after me last time.”

Her tongue darted across her teeth and he couldn’t help but stare. He lifted his cap to run his hand nervously across his scalp, sure that he was misinterpreting her intentions and not overly keen on leaving Jack and Wilhelmina alone. He guessed they still had the sentry bot, though, and that alone seemed to be enough to keep most raiders at bay.

“I’ll, uh, have to talk to Jack.”

She seated herself on the couch to wait, the German Shepherd padding obediently after her. Her companion moved to stand at her side and the two fell into easy conversation as he started up the stairs. He only hoped Jack said yes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I noticed that my English brain has being spelling Goodneighbor wrong throughout the whole fic so I'm going to go back and fix that now.

He was surprised that Jack had agreed to him going with Amelia to find Emogene, but honestly it didn’t seem like he’d listened to a word he’d said. He got like that when he was absorbed in his research, agreeing to things which he’d later regret. His only stipulation when agreeing to the group’s little excursion to Goodneighbor had been that Edward ask Amelia for more information on the vault. That seemed like a small price to pay for a little freedom, so Edward had begrudgingly agreed. The little group set out not long after, once the vault dweller had chance to change. 

“Can you imagine if I walked into Goodneighbor looking like this? I’d get eaten alive.” She’d said, gesturing to Emogene’s dress. “And I’d never shake Hancock trying to give me his ‘tour of the town.’” She quipped with a wink, much to the Paladin’s displeasure. She spent a good few minutes digging through her pack in search of something more appropriate, finally settling for another vault suit tucked right at the bottom. Though not bloody like the one she’d left in the basement, this one had obviously seen combat. It had the odd hole or nick in the material where alabaster skin showed through, which was particularly distracting when she asked for a hand strapping on her armour. She’d said that she’d normally ask Danse to help her, but that he wasn’t exactly at his most dextrous while wearing power armour. Deegan felt a pang of something that felt suspiciously like jealousy at the thought of the other man fastening her armour every morning when they were out in the field, the idea of his hands on her something he couldn’t bear thinking about. The Paladin evidently wasn’t keen on Edward doing it now, if the scowl on his face was anything to go by. The more time the ghoul spent in his presence, the less convinced he was that a scowl wasn’t the man’s default facial expression.

Armour in place, the trio were almost ready to leave - although Edward couldn’t quite understand how Amelia thought this outfit was any better than Emogene’s dress. The suit clung to every inch of her, every curve, and frankly the way her armour cupped her buttocks was obscene. It offered more protection than the dress, at least, but it surely wouldn’t dissuade Hancock from pursuing her. It took a good ten minutes for her to stuff everything back into her pack – why she needed quite so many rolls of duct tape or six alarm clocks was beyond him – but at least he knew she was prepared. The last thing in the pack were meds, just in case, although she was running a little low on stimpaks and mumbled something about having to stock up once they got to Goodneighbor.

When Amelia finally threw her sniper rifle over her shoulder and grabbed her shotgun, the oddball group were finally ready to leave. For the Commonwealth, the weather was surprisingly beautiful. The bright blue sky was marred by only the occasional white cloud and the sun was unusually warm for the time of year. It felt like an age since Edward had actually been able to appreciate the weather. Normally he had to be on guard from the moment he stepped out the door - it was a rare occasion when he had someone to watch his back. It was a comfortable feeling to know that there were three more sets of eyes looking for threats beside his own, but one he didn’t intend to get used to. He doubted that Jack would let him off leash like this regularly. 

“Ahh, if you squint a bit it’s almost as if the bombs never dropped,” Amelia began, twirling on the spot with her arms outstretched. “And that sun! Oh, I could get used to this.” When she finally opened her eyes again she turned to beam at her companions, almost bouncing. It was hard to believe that less than three hours earlier she’d been a despondent, bloody mess. Her mood was infectious, the beginnings of a smirk tugging at his lips. Hell, Edward thought he even saw the Paladin smile, but the expression faded when his dark brown eyes met the ghoul’s bloodshot blue ones.

“Keep your eyes peeled, Knight. This area of Boston is overrun with ferals, mutants and raiders.”

Edward felt like the Paladin put a little too much intonation into the word ‘ferals’ but let it slide. He’d be damned if that sour asshole was going to ruin his day. The dark-haired man was right, though. They needed to be on their guard. He hadn’t visited Goodneighbor since the night he’d first seen Amelia, so he couldn’t even tell them of any particularly safe routes. Ah well, between the three of them and the dog, he was sure they wouldn’t have too much trouble.

All was quiet until they reached the Boston Bugle building. Raiders had taken up in one of the burned-out shells across the street, whooping and hollering like animals as they flung molotovs with wild abandon. Combat brought something out of the vault dweller that he didn’t expect. Back when she used to bring Nate to the support group she always looked mildly uncomfortable, as if the life of a doting wife and mother didn’t quite fit. Here, now, it was like she was born to be roving across the wasteland, the ill-fitting skin of her old life melting away to reveal something wild, something savage. She was quite happy to run head first into danger as if she lived for it, when the sensible thing to do would’ve been to use her rifle from behind the hulking great mass that was the Paladin. She ran in, shotgun blazing, the way she moved graceful, cat-like, contrasting starkly with the brutal way she took out a man in a sack hood. As the man went to reload she ran straight at him, striking him round the head with her weapon before unloading two shells into his chest as he staggered backwards from the force of the blow. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought she was a raider herself.

She took a heavy blow from a woman wielding a pool cue, leaping back with a string of colourful curses. The raider swung again, putting herself off balance just enough that it gave him a clean shot. His first shot met its mark in the raider’s shoulder, the second in her chest. It was enough to take the raider down, though a shot from the Paladin’s laser rifle certainly finished the job. The group made short work of the remaining raiders and Edward found himself impressed not only by the vault dweller but her dog as well. When all was said and done, he was glad that she was still the woman he used to know, with a moral compass which generally lead her in the right direction. If it didn’t, hell, he knew he wouldn’t want to face her in combat.

After Amelia had finished picking the corpses clean of ammunition and anything useful, the group continued. It seemed the sound of fighting had drawn out the super mutants that infested the streets near Goodneighbor. He could see the gaudy lights of the town’s gate, but he could also see at least four mutants and two hounds prowling just around the corner. When they mutants came into view, the petite woman’s attitude changed.

“God I fucking hate super mutants.” She whispered, visibly cringing when one mutant bellowed to another about eating humans. “Seriously, not even ferals freak me out as much as those things do.”

She held her shoulder stiffly, the impact from the pool cue troubling her. Edward noticed that she was also limping slightly, a small patch of red growing on her thigh from her older wound. Being this close to Goodneighbor they could probably slip by unnoticed if they were careful. Edward was sure that Hancock and a few of the Neighbourhood Watch wouldn’t mind joining them in taking the fight to the mutants later.

“Smell human, want to eat!” Bellowed one mutant. “Always smell human, no see human.” Another grumbled, before making its way back inside a building decorated with gore bags and human remains.

“Disgusting creatures.” The Paladin growled, “Super mutants are freaks of nature that need to be exterminated-” The man reached for his laser rifle again, but Edward caught his gauntlet before he could fire.

“If there’s one thing you and I agree on it’s getting rid of super mutants, but our girl here is looking a little worse for wear. We can wipe them out after we’ve rested up in Goodneighbor.”

The Paladin bristled, visibly angry at the ghoul’s proximity, but couldn’t argue with his logic. At least there was a little bit of common sense inside that thick skull of his. If Amelia disliked the way he spoke about her, she didn’t say a word. Instead the vault dweller rubbed at her upper arm and shoulder, evidently in some discomfort.

“I just want a fucking drink, if I’m honest.”

The woman growled, a tinge of frustration to her words. As the last of the mutants rounded the corner and went out of view, she vaulted a pile of sandbags and made for the town’s gate. Danse went next. Edward was convinced the clunking of his power armour would alert the group of mutants but found that the Paladin was surprisingly stealthy. The man made his way to the gate, turning to keep watch while Amelia gestured for the ghoul to join them. Even if they had been spotted, it made sense for him to go last. Ghouls mustn’t taste as good as humans; super mutants never seemed to pay him much heed unless he got too close. He expertly vaulted the barrier, assault rifle in hand, and closed the distance to the gate with ease.

Edward had once heard a merc in the Third Rail describe Goodneighbor as smelling of ‘urine-soaked garbage’ and frankly, he couldn’t argue with that now. The town’s stench hit him as soon as he walked through the door even though he was missing most of his nose. He imagined that it must be a hundred times worse for Amelia and Danse, but neither made any complaint. Hell, it seemed like the town smelled a little worse time each time he visited. The smell didn’t stop Amelia from looking relieved, as if she’d taken a weight off. He glanced around the courtyard, a few customers crowded into Daisy’s Discounts and Kill or Be Killed but otherwise it was quiet. A flash of bright red caught his attention and he spotted Hancock surveying his domain from the state house balcony. The mayor nodded to Edward as the group passed, disappearing back inside without a word.

“I’m going to go get us some rooms at the Rexford, hopefully they’re not all booked up. I’ll meet you guys in the Third Rail?" 

Amelia chimed, cocking her head to one side. The Paladin quickly shook his head, clearly still uncomfortable in Goodneighbor. It was probably for the best that he didn’t wander around alone.

“Negative, soldier. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to store some equipment in the room.”

Edward was happy to wait for them, deciding to head to Daisy’s for a few supplies before returning to the entrance of the Third Rail. He had just lit a cigarette and was taking a drag when the pair reappeared. For a moment he didn’t recognise the dark-haired man at Amelia’s side, without his power armour and hood he looked completely different. The resemblance between Danse and Nate was startling, even more stark now that he was dressed in civilian clothes. Edward guessed that Amelia had talked him out of his armour so he was less of a target while they were in town, it was certainly a more inconspicuous look. Amelia had ditched her armour too, but still kept a pistol strapped to her leg. On her head was a tatty sea captain’s hat, which simultaneously looked ridiculous and endearing. She grinned when she spotted him, jogging over to greet him as if they had been parted far longer. Her gait was easy, he supposed she must’ve treated her wounds with a stimpak in the Rexford. 

He held out his arm and, to his surprise, she took it. She grinned up at him. God, he always forgot how short she was. This close he could see that the top of her head barely passed his shoulder. It brought an unfamiliar warmth to see her smile up at him, although it was probably compounded by the frown he saw on the Paladin’s face. It shouldn’t be a competition – he just wanted her to be happy – but making the other man a little jealous couldn’t help but cause a smirk to tug at the corner of his lips.

As they entered the Third Rail even the stoic Ham’s eyes wandered as they passed – he knew that suit would be trouble. He still couldn’t quite believe she was here, now, with him, but he was happy she was. It felt good to enjoy a little freedom, but hell he needed a drink. She was going to be the death of him.


End file.
